


Wake Me Up

by sxftblue



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hallucinations, Hannigram - Freeform, Heavy Angst, M/M, Sounders of Three, Time Travel, We Killed a Dragon Last Night, inameitlater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 04:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxftblue/pseuds/sxftblue
Summary: Set in inameitlater's "SOUNDERS OF THREE" ; chapter 5.Will wakes up in the moment before the gutting and Abigail's death, AGAIN.





	Wake Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inameitlater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inameitlater/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sounders of Three](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847300) by [inameitlater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inameitlater/pseuds/inameitlater). 



> SO! This is my first time writing and posting a fic. I normally only write in roleplay form on twitter so bear with me. Basically I've been OBSESSED with inameitlater's series "Our Place in Time" - like seriously, it's consuming my life. The idea for this snippet came to me while listening to Ruelle's "Bad Dream" on my way to work this morning. (The whole album makes me think of hannigram tbh) I was typing like a madwoman and pretty sure the annoying case of writer's block I was suffering from is gone.
> 
> ** READ "WE KILLED A DRAGON LAST NIGHT" + "SOUNDERS OF THREE" FIRST because spoilers n stuff n you'll be lost. But also because it's an incredible series and deserves all the <3

Will tried to register what was going on in the world outside of his head. He felt wet and cold, and like his heart would soon explode in his chest. It was disorienting and Will couldn’t tell if the room was suddenly spinning, or if he was about to fall over. He didn’t want to open his eyes; opening them meant he’d have to accept whatever point in time he’d ended up in, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he could handle another Hannibal that wasn’t his Hannibal. 

He heard voices, soft and muffled at first, and then gradually, they became louder and more clear. Someone was standing in front of him. “Will?” They called. Hannibal, Will recognized, but he wasn’t at all surprised. He took a deep breath and slowly, opened his eyes. He met Hannibal’s gaze and knew exactly what point in time he had revisited. But hadn’t he already been here again? He’d taken the pills and begged Hannibal to take Abigail with him. Had he done that wrong too?

“What’s wrong with him?” A familiar sounding female voice asked. Will’s heart sank and he could feel a tremor running through his body. No, he thought. Not this again, please. The voice inside his head pleaded desperately. He wanted to turn around and grab Abigail and run out of the house as quickly as possible, take her to the safety of a quiet stream somewhere where no one would ever find them, but he knew that security wouldn’t last. There was no escaping Hannibal, or rather there was no place in this world for Will or Abigail without him. With the fear of not being able to escape the loss that would soon come to pass again, Will felt hot tears blur his vision and a pained sob leave his throat. Hannibal was holding onto him and eyeing him curiously. 

“I think he might be in shock,” Hannibal answered before bringing his hands up to brush the hair off of Will’s forehead. His touch was gentle - and if Will didn’t know for sure that he would soon be gutted he would have considered it a loving gesture. Hannibal’s touch lingered against his wet forehead for a moment longer before dropping back down to hold him by the arm. A false look of concern masked his features as he said to Abigail, “He has a fever, most likely the encephalitis again.” Will closed his eyes and shook his head. “No.” He sobbed. “No, no, no. Please.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper he knew only Hannibal would be able to hear. 

Will rested his head against the other man’s blood soaked shoulder, and an odd sense of security overcame him. Will knew he should feel worried about Jack who was bleeding out in the pantry, and Alana who was lying with bones broken on the sidewalk below them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about anyone who wasn’t in the room with him right now. Holding Hannibal, the embrace mirrored the one on the cliffside after the Dragon. But this wasn’t that Hannibal, not even close, and this wasn’t the cliffside. This was a moment of betrayal and pain and death, and even though Will had forgiven Hannibal for it long ago, facing it again made him hate the man he was holding onto, and also himself. He hated his past self for not going with Hannibal and living out the rest of their lives hidden from Jack and the FBI, and everyone else. All that mattered to him now was the teacup being whole and Abigail living. 

After a moment, Will regained his voice. “Please, don’t kill her. You don’t have to do this.” He begged against Hannibal’s chest. He didn’t know what to do, or why he was being placed in this moment once more. It was cruel, even worse than Hannibal killing his dogs and Will bleeding out in his house afterwards. Both mentally and physically exhausted, Will just wanted it all to stop, and not caring about the repercussions it could cause, he decided to go with his gut instinct. “I love you.” He confessed in a broken voice. “Why do you keep hurting me?” Will grabbed at Hannibal’s shirt in an attempt to pull the man closer to him; half bracing himself for the pain of being gutted and half afraid this Hannibal would disappear. The sound of something hitting the floor pulled Will from his thoughts. He wanted to look below him, not entirely trusting his guess that it was the knife lying on the floor. Will lifted his head from Hannibal’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. Hannibal was crying.

“I gave you a rare gift but you didn’t want it.” He said in a voice that sounded almost as broken as Will felt. 

“I want it now.” Will told him desperately and his grip on Hannibal’s shirt was strong enough to tear the material from his body. 

“I let you know me, see me,” 

“And I want you.” Will cut in without hesitation. “All of you, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal didn’t speak, he just eyed Will with uncertainty. Will tried to tell himself not to be heartbroken that his confession didn’t reach Hannibal the way he had wanted it to, but he was afraid. Realizing this was the first time he’d ever vocalized his love for Hannibal to his face made Will feel like vomiting. He now understood how painful this moment had been for Hannibal in the past; loving Will but Will not loving him back, and the betrayal against him involving Jack. Will felt hopeless and wanted nothing more than to grab Hannibal and kiss him hard, but he was afraid that wouldn’t be perceived the right way, and he felt a little awkward with Abigail in the room with them. Will loosened his hold on Hannibal’s shirt.

“You were supposed to leave.” He finally said in hopes that it would speed things up and he would die again and leave this moment once and for all. 

“We couldn’t leave without you.” Hannibal replied softly, and Will could feel his heart shattering all over again. 

Will shook his head and let go of Hannibal, bending down to pick up what had indeed been the knife Hannibal dropped on the floor. He placed it in the other man’s hands. “I’m sorry,” Will’s voice was defeated. “Can you forgive me?” This took this time’s Hannibal by surprise, as Will had expected it would. Letting his hand close over Hannibal’s, Will looked from the knife they now held together to Hannibal’s watery eyes. Will smiled, lost in the moment, and then it was gone. 

“Hands in the air! Now!” Jack Crawford struggled to call out. In one hand he held the gun shakily, pointing it at the pair, the other held tightly to the skin around the piece of glass sticking into his neck. Will jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice, but didn’t turn around or let go of Hannibal’s hand. Abigail was sobbing in the corner and Jack was shouting Will’s name frantically. He felt Hannibal tighten his grip on the knife, and he could see in his eyes the “I’m sorry” that didn’t leave his lips as he quickly turned Will around, holding him with the knife placed against his throat. 

As fucked up as it all was, Will wanted to laugh, but instead he took a deep breath before saying, “Do it.” Whether he was speaking to Hannibal or Jack, it wasn’t clear but Will closed his eyes and the sound from the gunshot rang loudly in his ears long after Hannibal had fallen to the ground. 

Will now had three versions of this moment: Abigail bleeding out on the floor beside him, his own drug induced death, and now Hannibal being shot by Jack. Though it was painful, Will stored it in his own memory palace as if to remember to tell his Hannibal if he ever got back to him.

I told Hannibal I loved him, Will thought as Abigail and Jack slowly faded from the room, and then the walls and the house, until he was left with nothing but the rain hitting his skin and dreadful feeling of waking up again. 

It had only been a nightmare.


End file.
